The Difference Between Life and Death
by DreadPirateRoberts
Summary: Jasper Hale, depressed vampire who wants to end it all. But before he goes through with it, he must visit a Mississippi asylum at the request of an old friend. There he meets a human, Alice who has the ability to see the future. Set around 1910's.
1. Low Points

AN: Ok this is a rewritten chapter because my last one was so bad, I really didn't like it. Hope this one is better. Oh and Twilight and it's characters places etc are not mine, they belong to the great Stephanie Meyer.

The flesh gave way and blood flowed from the opening and down his throat, sweet yet spicy. My thirst quenched I let the body flop to the floor, my freshly crimson eyes focused on the man's face. He was young, perhaps no more than 26, his whole life in front of him,

The flesh broke beneath my teeth, blood oozed from the wounds trailing down my throat. Sweet yet Spicy, an addicting flavor that I would never get enough off. I drank until I was satisfied, letting the body flop to the floor as my newly crimson eyes focused on the man's face.

He was young, perhaps no more than 26 with a wife and child at home. I felt emotions oh so familiar to me return, Hatred, Sadness, Disgust, the same emotions I always felt after a human kill. I had taken one mans life only to leave other lives shattered. I had left a wife without her husband, a child without her father and parents of there son. But I could not stop myself.

I would always remember his emotions, more so than I would remember anybody else. They were strong, imprinted in my memory for all time. Like the others he had felt fear, yet his fear had not been for himself, or a fear of dying. It was a fear for his family, that I would kill them the same way I had killed him, and an overwhelming sadness that he would miss out on everything because of me.

Closing my eyes I heard the faint sound of a child calling. "Dad, Dad, come look it." The voice although childish was full of pride, she had obviously achieved something her father would never see. Had I been human I would have cried, broken down by the mans feet. Instead what I did was turn and run, hoping to forget what I had done, hoping to forget the mans pale face and the delighted calls of his child.

I could not go back to Maria, not like this, not ever. I never thought I would ever leave her, I loved her, she was my family, the only person I ever needed. Yet here I was, running as far away from her as I could get. Going back to her would mean an eternity of killing, turning, fighting. Hate, anger, fear, control masquerading as love that had been my world for so long, and that was what Maria represented. I knew if I stayed in that world any longer I would drowned in the constant river of emotions, I was already shutting down, I was already flailing.

As dawn moved ever closer I had managed to reach the border or Kansas and a little town whose name would always escape me. The town looked almost like a ghost town, and the population was only a small number, perhaps just reaching over 300. This was the perfect place for me to spend the day, the fewer people the less temptation. And I defiantly did not need temptation. Perhaps the coming day in this town would help me clear my head letting me determine my next move.

I chose a dilapidated little motel that looked like a guest hadn't stepped through it's doors in the last hundred years. The manager was an elderly woman who's joy radiated from her upon seeing me standing at the opposite end of her little desk. Her excitement when I announced my plans to stay here seemed to build as she pulled a rusty little key from a drawer before leading me through a small corridor.

The room was in as bad a shape as on the outside. The moth eaten curtains barely covered the full span of the broken window, letting small beams of light into the room. The carpet was worn, although from what I had no idea, and the wooden bed he was sure must have been a grand dark mahogany frame was now a beaten, dull color with most of the varnishing missing, with a dresser that appeared to be in the same shape as the bed. The only items in the room in a fairly decent shape were the bed covers and one silver coated mirror handing just above the dresser. Not the comfiest of places, but then again comfort was bottom of my list. No people at the top of my list, now the place seemed to do really well at that.

Just as soon as the woman stepped out of the door I shut it, bolting it so that I would not be disturbed. Moving towards the bed a small beam of light touched my skin, making me sparkle much like a diamond. I had not been out in the sun for so long I had almost forgot what it made me look like, how my true form as beautiful as it was disguised a dangerous predator underneath. And how utterly bizarre it would look if a human walked past the window and saw me.

The curtains did not protect to room much from anything outside, and the only thing I could find that would do a sufficient enough job was the quilt from the bed. Good job I really didn't need it. Tucking the quilt into the tops of the rail didn't look like a safe way of pinning it up, but I had neither the will nor the energy to figure out a more appropriate way. It would do.

Sitting on the bed, I folded my legs under me letting my weight rest against the headboard. Dropping my head forward I let my eyes close, I had so many chaotic thoughts in my head I knew it would take a while to sort through them all. I barley noticed the quite rapping on the door, which surely belonged to the old woman who ran the place, yet I remained quite, still.

I knew it was nightfall, even without seeing the darkness descend. I had not moved even an inch in all those hours, neither had I sorted through any of my thoughts or come to any sort of conclusions about my next move. The only thing I was certain of was that I had to keep moving.

Sliding from the bed I pulled my makeshift curtain from its resting place, before draping it over the bed in the same fashion as it had been when I had entered, I felt I owed the woman that much. I had no intentions of lingering, and gave a sigh of relief as the reception room was empty, the old woman was nowhere in sight. Placing the money and a thank you note on the desk I slipped out into the humid night air, only to be greeted by the old woman.

The hunger beat at me as she wrapped her arms around me. I could feel the beat of heart against my skin, I could hear the rush of blood as it sped through her body and I could taste the spicy flavor I was oh so addicted to. Shaking my head to clear the thoughts I released myself from her grip disappearing off into the night to an unknown destination.

In the three years or so that followed I slipped into a sort of pattern, feeding only when I could hold of no longer. I also continued to return to the first motel I had come across in the tiny little town I still could not remember the name off, for reasons that I would never truly understand. There was something about the place that pulled me back, something about the little old woman and the unfamiliar feelings that always radiated from her when she saw my scarred face.

I made an effort to return at least once a month, sometimes for more than one day. I had even taken to helping her rebuild the motel, a sort of payment for her innate kindness that I never deserved. I had returned once again, and this time we had decided to repaint the walls, getting rid of the flaky lime green paint of before.

She couldn't stand silences for long, and soon had me explaining to her where I had been in the last month, what I'd done and who I'd met. I didn't really want to answer, but I felt obliged to, before attempting to turn the tables and ask her questions. I asked her one question about her son, a tall dark haired man who I had seen in many a picture throughout her personal areas, an apparently touchy subject, the sadness rolled from her in waves, instantly making me feel bad.

Despite that she still told me exactly what had happened, the sadness bordering on depression the more she spoke. I wanted to stop her talking about it, to use my ability to stop her feeling the sadness, yet found I was unable to. Were my powers failing me. I had no choice but to listen as she told me about her sons engagement to a young woman from out of state, a rather well to do woman, and there subsequent marriage, a small ceremony in Italy just for immediate family members. She told me how they were so happy together, such a perfect couple, or that was until he was killed on the second day of celebration.

My heart ached for her, her sadness was my own, so I wrapped my arms around her, something I had never willingly done to a human before. I could only describe this woman as a mother like figure who had told me on more than one occasion that I was like a son to her, even as I resisted the urge to tell her shes claiming that a murder, a creature of the night, a vampire was like her son. Yet I could not do that to her. I loved her like my own mother. Yet it was the sad story of her real son that gave me an idea. Death in Italy. I would seek death in Italy, I would go to the Volturi.

I made a resolve, tomorrow would be the day I headed for Italy, for my salvation, for my punishment. Yet first I had to say goodbye to the old woman. As she disappeared of to bed at my insistence I bid her goodbye. She appeared to think nothing of it, just a casual remark stating that I would be leaving in the morning. Which was true, only I would never be returning. I wondered how she would feel when after a month of waiting I never walked through the door, after five years of waiting I would never walk through that door.

Sighing I watched her shuffle upstairs and into her room. The door clicking shut was my cue, as I set about completing the work we had planned for the future, finishing the motel to make it look as she had once described her vision for it as most excellent. Thanks to my speed, strength and other vampiric abilities I was able to complete it quickly.

I returned to his room one final time, the very same room I had used on that first night, although admittedly it was now in a much better state. This room had been christened Jasper's room by the old woman, and was the only guest room to hold a painting. The painting was one of two identical pieces. One was given to the old woman, who given it the pride of place above her bed, the other I had received only to keep it in this room.

The painting was one I liked rather a lot. It depicted the old woman her typical happy smile on her face, and me stood behind her, a sort of strange half smile on mine. It was my one reminder of her, the woman I had come to feel a love for, the way a son would love a mother. I ran my hand across the surface of the painting, it was course, invisible little grooves lined the surface, which where only noticeable when I ran his icy cold hand over them. I would not take it with me, I would leave it here, my mark upon the world, showing that I was not always a monster, I could be good.

My thoughts were broken by the sound of a phone.

Within seconds I was down in the lobby, phone in hand and up close to my ear. Yet I could hear nothing on the other end. Strange. Placing the phone back in it's cradle I let out a sigh. Three rings, probably a mistaken call, or at least I thought until I heard a voice from behind me.

"Your a hard man to find Jasper."

My first instinct was to defend, so I span around to face the intruder, crouching low a snarl forming on my lips. My reaction elicited an amused chuckle from the intruder, something that irked me.

"It's only me Major, Relax."

At the term major, and the familiarity of the voice I relaxed, cursing myself mentally. If Matthew was here that meant some stupid suggestion was sure to follow. I didn't want to ask, but I had to. He would never tell me unless I asked, and with Matthew it was always better to know. "Why are you here."

"I'm here to ask you a favor. I want you to come down to the Asylum to give me a little help. I fear that we have need of your particular talents."

There it was, the stupidly insane idea. I could not go anywhere near that asylum and he knew that there was simply too much temptation in so small a place. I had been there once and to my credit had managed a week only because I actually fed whenever I felt even a little urge. On top of that I would be in an emotional climate that was worse than the one with Maria. They were crazy, there emotions as unpredictable as the weather and in my current state it could be devastating. It would destroy me. "No" was the answer I gave.

I could feel Matthew's resolve and I hated him for it. He was using his emotions to guilt me into going, as he quickly changed to betrayal. I should not have fell for it, he had after all tried it many times before and just like now I fell for it each and every time. Matthew did not like rejection it seemed, and in a matter of minutes my old friend literally and figuratively had my arms behind my back. A defeated "fine" was all I could say.


	2. These feelings are not my own

**A/N: Sorry for the delay I have been busy with life in general. It's a short chapter but I'm at Uni and I have to go home now.**

It had taken us longer than expected to reach his institution. Four Weeks to be exact, and three weeks longer than had been expected. I was dragging my heels, sulking and making damn sure that Matthew knew exactly how I felt at ever moment of every day. I was giving him a taste of what it was like to be me.

I had hoped that by doing so he would turn around and tell me to go. Whether it be to save himself from the torture I was inflicting upon him, or out of genuine concern for me.

Back when we were children he would have given his left arm just to stop me from suffering. Apparently he no longer felt for me what he once did, just as I no longer felt for him. Where vampires excluded from emotions associated with families and loved ones. In all my years I had never seen such an emotion from one of my kind.

Soulless, emotionless monsters, that's exactly what we Vampires are, all hidden under a deceptively beautiful exterior. It seemed to work for the others just fine.

Yet I was different. Yes I was emotionless, but I lived in a constant climate of emotions. I had felt the warm, tingly, happy emotions but always through others, never for myself. I had often tried to recreate feelings that intrigued me both in myself and others and yet I failed every time.

What did Matthew expect me to do for these patients of his? Influence there emotions, tell him what there feeling. Either way this was going to end badly, and I was going to end up worse than I currently was. The depression was already great, weighing me down.

I tried next to make him feel my depression, the sheer weight of it, a shameful last ditch attempt at getting out of the situation and out of this life. At last it seemed to work, as Matthew in front of me stood still, motionless.

His turning to face me was agonizingly slow, could it be that he was dragging it out in the hopes I would relent my emotional onslaught.

His crimson eyes met mine, the same sorrow I held in my eyes reflected in his. He understood, and now he was going to let me go. I felt relief.

A sigh escaped his pale lips before one elegant hand lifted up from his side, a long bony finger pointing to his left.

Naturally my gaze followed his arm and then his finger before my eyes came to rest on the all too familiar shape. I knew then he was not letting me go. He would not take pity on me; he refused to be my friend. He wanted something from me and he would not free me until he had received it.

My gaze would not move, and I was unsure how long I simply stood there.

The Institute was a large building, situated directly in the middle of a rather large town. It had pitch black walls and tinted windows that did not allow you to see in, save for three, always lit and a source of much wonder for the townsfolk.

The town, by contrast was a bright white sea, each house immaculate in appearance. This was a proud town, nothing out of place, from the expertly placed stalls to the color coordinated flowers, that stood proud and tall.

The first and only time I had visited here I was struck by the contrast between the town and the institute. How could the townsfolk allow such a monstrous sight to be here, not to mention the incredibly strange vibes the place seemed to radiate.

Then as the sun broke out from the clouds I knew why. From the windows which had always been lit came an erethreal glow, like the room contained thousands of tiny little diamonds. From the room I hid in I watched fascinated. The town had stopped, everybody stood transfixed to the sight before them.

Nothing had changed.

The building was the same as always, save for the three windows. Two remained lit; the middle had descended into darkness. Matthew's office.

I was lost in my own world, of thoughts and emotions long passed. My childhood with Matthew, a friendship that now counted for nothing, and our different directions in life, his success and my failure and being a Vampire.

Thoughts associated with happy times soon descended into worse thoughts, and finally turning to the downright depressing. I did not know why.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by what I first believed to be pain, suffering of some sort inflicted upon one person by another. It was to some degree suffering, a painful longing for something, something that they had seen yet cannot have.

It was strange, the feeling that spread through me. I was feeling the basic emotion, her longing yet I could feel other details too. I knew that the person was a female and that she longed for her family, a man she had seen through fleeting dreams.

A simple pressure on my wrist and I glanced down. The long fingers that had once pointed at a building now enclosed around my wrist. Cold skin against cold skin.

No longer were we in the same position as I remembered. An entire town did not stand between us and the Institute. Now only a wall shielded me from the horror within.

Yet I no longer found myself wanting to escape, I would willingly cross the threshold, and it bothered me. Yet I knew the reason why. The mysterious girl, with whom I shared a strange link to despite the fact I had never met her before in my life.

I would find her no matter what the cost to myself. I would help her no matter what.


End file.
